


You Shine Like the Real Thing

by homosociallyyours



Series: Like One of Your French Girls [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Butch/Femme, Established Relationship, F/F, Girl Direction, Heteronormativity, I Love You, femme invisibility, internalized femmephobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 19:14:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15492792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homosociallyyours/pseuds/homosociallyyours
Summary: (Girl Direction AU)Harry worries that she doesn't look "gay enough" and Louis talks her through all the reasons that she needn't worry about it.





	You Shine Like the Real Thing

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a Wordplay prompt challenge that a group of us are participating in for the prompt "polish". To read the amazing fics that were written by the others on this prompt, [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/polish/works), and to see all fics written as part of the challenge, [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/wordplay_fic_challenge/works) or find the masterpost for this year’s challenge [here](https://wordplayfics.tumblr.com/post/175608230403/wordplay-2018-every-week-a-prompt-is-chosen-using).
> 
> A continuation (a few months later) from my first girl direction fic. See the end for more notes. 
> 
> I was in a major time crunch here and this fic is unbetaed, so all mistakes are mine.

Harry looked in the mirror and pulled at the hem of her shorts, wondering if she should change out of them but completely at a loss as to what she’d wear instead. She heard a quick knock at her door and then saw Louis’ head peeking around it. 

“Decent, love?” she asked, her eyes glinting mischievously as if she’d hoped to find Harry mostly naked. She wrinkled her nose. “Oh, you are. Too bad for me, then.” 

Harry laughed and shook her head. “Course I’m dressed and ready. Surprised you are. Did Liam tell you the wrong time so that you’d be early?” 

Louis walked in and flung herself onto Harry’s bed dramatically. “She _did_. And I’ve already told her she’ll pay for it. I better not find out that you were in on it, or you’ll be next on my list.”

“Might have to put the whole French Club on your list, then. We sort of talked about it when you were late for the last meeting.” Harry turned to look at Louis just in time to get a pillow to the face. “Heyyy! If you’d read the minutes you’d have known about it.” Harry moved to join Louis on the bed, ducking her head questioningly until Louis scooted over and made room for her. 

“Fine, fine. I’m still going to get Liam later. If you help me we’ll be even.” Louis put her arm around Harry’s waist and laid her head on Harry’s, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Don’t worry, it won’t involve making a mess or anything scandalous. Just embarrassing.” Harry looked back at her skeptically. “Not even that embarrassing, m’just gonna let her talk a lot of shit about a painting not knowing that she’s got it all wrong. She had me quizzin’ her the other night.” 

Harry rolled her eyes. “That’s really on her then, I suppose.”

“Walked right into it!” Louis said, giving Harry a squeeze. “Might’ve been planning to do this before I knew about her telling me the wrong time, but it is what it is.” 

“You would say that,” Harry said as she hooked her leg between Louis’ and wiggled her toes against Louis’ bare ankles. “You’re a menace, you know.” 

“Mm, what about you? In your li’le shorts and your hair all tied up. Impossible!” Louis burrowed her face into Harry’s neck and kissed her nape as Harry wriggled against her. 

“You like it, then?” Harry asked carefully, pressing her back into the comforting warmth of Louis’ front. Louis hooked her chin over Harry’s shoulder. 

“Mm, yeah,” Louis said, her fingers dancing lightly underneath the end of Harry’s shorts. “Might like it too much. Love your legs, Hazza.” 

“They’re not as thick as yours, though,” Harry said, trying to ignore the tickle of Louis’ touch on her thighs. “Kinda wonder if they’re too girly, maybe? In these shorts especially, s’like, I don’t look, y’know.” She gestured helplessly, worried that she’d said too much. It was silly, after all, to worry that her shorts weren’t gay enough or that her legs, paler than Louis’ and with only a little stubbly growth on them, were too feminine. Louis liked them. Louis liked _her_. And one little change in clothing wouldn’t change that in any real way. “Anyway, s’not that important.” 

Louis mouthed against Harry’s shoulder and neck, biting at her weakly-- not enough to leave any sort of mark, but enough to show that she was thinking. It was a funny thing Harry had noticed early on. Louis at her most thoughtful was quiet, but not inactive, always doodling or fidgeting or, when it came to Harry, touching in a casual but directed way. It wasn’t sexual so much as a tactile experience, and it already put Harry at ease.

“D’you like what you’re wearing, baby?” Louis asked, her hand coming to rest at Harry’s side and her nose buried in Harry’s curls. 

Harry nodded softly. “Yeah, I like it well enough. It’s just. I wanna make sure everyone knows that we’re together. That I’m, umm, serious? About you.” 

“And you think you have to wear something different for people to know we’re together?” 

“Not _have_ to. Just that it’d make things easier, I guess?” Harry shifted against Louis, wondering if she should just get up and change now and end the conversation. Of course she didn’t know what she’d wear. Jeans and a button up could probably work, but they never quite laid properly over her tits, at least one button always gaping so that her bra showed. 

Behind her, Louis hummed against Harry’s neck before giving her a quick peck and pushing lightly at her back. “Alright, up. Lemme look at you.” 

Harry stood and turned, looking back at Louis with a frown. “M’just gonna put on jeans,” she said. “It’s not…” 

“Ah-ah, no, none of that,” Louis said loudly, cutting her off. “What you don’t know about me is that I am one of the key members of the campus gay police!” Louis stood and put her hands on her hips, pursing her lips as she looked over Harry appraisingly. “S’a very important job, see. We make sure that lesbians are pure and bisexuals are exactly 50/50 attracted and that queers don’t interact with gays and that asexuals know their place.” 

When Harry tried to speak again, Louis put a finger over her lips to silence her. “Now, now, my angry little frog face.” Any protest Harry could make was covered by the sound of Louis’ voice, its mock-authoritarian tone too loud for the confined space of Harry’s bedroom. “It seems you’re worried about not looking gay enough, is that right?” 

Harry whined in the back of her throat as she shrugged her shoulders helplessly. Obviously Louis wasn’t just going to let her get changed without going through whatever she was doing.

“The first question from the court! What exactly makes for gay dressing, hm Harry?” Louis looked at her expectantly and Harry rolled her eyes. 

“Thought you were the police, and suddenly you’re the court? Can’t I just--” 

“Answer the question!” Louis said imperiously. And honestly, if Harry wasn’t completely gone on her she’d be annoyed right now, nearly getting shouted to about not being sure what to wear. 

“ _Fine_. It’s like, well. S’like what you wear. Or Niall. Jeans, trackies, jumpers. And not shaving. Playing sports. Having more muscles, or just, maybe, less curves?” Harry realized as she finished talking that she might as well have said it was everything she wasn’t. That was the problem, after all. There was gay, and there was Harry. 

Louis approached and took Harry’s hands. “Second question,” she said, her voice back to its normal soft rasp that made Harry smile in spite of herself. “Who the hell told _my girlfriend_ that she didn’t look gay enough? Because that’s the only crime I would actually punish if there were such a thing as the gay police.” 

Harry scrunched her nose at Louis, looking away quickly though she knew it wouldn’t hide her blush. “Nobody said anything, really. S’just. I haven’t liked anyone as much as I like you, and I want everyone to know. But. Guys still try to chat me up sometimes?” She looked back at Louis questioningly, and Louis stroked her wrists and stepped a little closer, encouraging her to continue. 

“And like maybe if I dressed the right way, they’d stop, yeah? Or the girls in my history seminar project would stop trying to set me up with friends of their boyfriends. Maybe if I cut my hair and my tits were smaller and I stopped putting varnish on my nails, they’d know. But instead s’like I have to tell them every time and they look like they don’t believe me, and I hate it.” Harry could feel a lump growing in her throat and she swallowed around it, angry at the idea of crying. 

“Can I hug you, baby?” Louis asked, still holding onto Harry’s wrists gently as she looked up into her eyes. When Harry nodded, Louis stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Harry’s waist and holding her in silence until Harry’s breathing evened out and the threat of tears had passed. 

“Okay, first and most important,” Louis said as she took a small step back from Harry, “you’re exactly as gay as you’re supposed to be. You look it, and you are it. You’re however and whoever you need to be today. And anyone who doesn’t see that doesn’t see you.” Louis brushed a stray curl from Harry’s face. “They don’t deserve to see you.” 

Harry took a deep breath and waited for Louis to continue, already feeling lighter.  
“And second, I don’t get all the same shit as you, but I get some of it. Just yesterday one of the lads who works at Nando’s tried to chat me up. Said he’d always wanted to take out a girl who liked footie as much as him.” Harry laughed and Louis smiled back at her, eyes glittering. “Yeah, they’re not too quick,” Louis said, tapping her temple. 

“Last thing before you change into whatever the fuck you actually feel like wearin’ is that you’re my girlfriend, and I like you a lot. I like the way you think and look and dress, and I like how big you smile when you get excited about things, and if you want we can hold hands every second we’re in public.” Louis wrapped her arms around Harry and held her for a moment. “I might actually love you, Harry,” she said quietly. Her breath was warm against Harry’s neck and her words melted down into Harry’s heart like warm chocolate, sweet and heady and perfect. 

“I’m so in love with you, Louis. And I love you. And. You’re a really good girlfriend, like the kind that I’d write songs about if I could do that,” Harry said, cheeks pink with embarrassment but heart full of bravery after what Louis had said. 

“Ugh, honestly,” Liam said from outside the door. “I knew I’d find the two of you in here. We’ve been waiting for five minutes already.” 

Louis looked at Harry with the twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “We’re trying to have sex in here, Liam! A little privacy would be nice!” Louis said with mock outrage in her voice. 

Harry burst out laughing immediately, unable to keep it in as Liam scoffed from the other side of the door. 

“Five more minutes and we’re leaving both of you!” Liam said, indignant. They listened as she stomped out of the dorm room, letting the door close hard as she left. Louis nudged Harry gently. 

“Gonna wear the shorts? Or something else?” 

“These’ll be alright,” Harry said, smiling. “And we really should get down there.” She slid on a pair of shoes and grabbed her bag. She was opening her door when Louis stopped her with a hand on her waist, sliding close to whisper in her ear. 

“You really do look perfect, baby. As queer as can be and the only girl I’d want holding my hand and kissing all day.” Louis leaned in and kissed her just behind her ear, squeezing her waist as she did. “Now let’s get down there so we can properly bug Liam on this bus ride, hm? She’ll wish she’d given us ten extra minutes by the time we’re done.” 

Harry laughed and pulled Louis out the door behind her, holding her hand tight and not letting go til they’d made it to the bus. Some people might not have realized they were together, but Harry worried about it just a little bit less now. Louis was the brightest light in the room, and if she saw Harry then maybe that felt like just enough for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to say a little more about writing this fic: 
> 
> Polish got me thinking about nail polish, which led me to thinking about the ways that I struggled with my femme identity as a young lesbian/queer. Many of the femmes I know went through what we talk about as our "butch phase" where we tried on the pieces of butch culture and identity that we hoped might give us a place in young lgbtq+ community. 
> 
> I'm not saying this is a universal experience at all, or that anyone who's young and butch is going through a phase (far from that), but the awkward stumblings into identifying as femme don't get talked about a lot and I wanted to explore that a bit. The title is from The Gossip song, "Dime Store Diamond," one of my favorite queer fat femme anthems. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> Fic post coming--this week was rough and I barely got my fic in under the wire!--but in the meantime, come say hi on [tumblr](http://homosociallyyours.tumblr.com) :)


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